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THE TREASURE OF THE HUMBLE. Translated by ALFRED SUTRO. 12mo. $1.75.

The Double Garden

WISDOM AND DESTINY. Translated by ALFRED SUTRO. 12mo. $1.75.

The Double Garden

THE LIFE OF THE BEE. Translated by ALFRED SUTRO. 12mo. $1.40 _net_.

The Double Garden

SISTER BEATRICE AND ARDIANE AND BARBE BLEUE. Translated by BERNARD MIALL. 12mo. $1.20 _net_.

THE BURIED TEMPLE. Translated by ALFRED SUTRO. 12mo. $1.40 _net_.

THOUGHTS FROM MAETERLINCK. Arranged by E. S. S. 12mo. $1.20 _net_.

THE DOUBLE GARDEN. Translated by ALEXANDER TEIXEIRA DE MATTOS. 12mo. $1.40 _net_.

_Translated by_ ALEXANDER TEIXEIRA DE MATTOS

COPYRIGHT, 1903, BY HARPER & BROTHERS, THE CENTURY CO.

COPYRIGHT, 1904, BY MAURICE MAETERLINCK, HARPER & BROTHERS, THE CENTURY CO., THE ESS ESS PUBLISHING CO., AINSLEE'S MAGAZINE CO.

COPYRIGHT, 1904, BY DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY

_Of the sixteen essays in this volume, some have appeared in London: in the_ International Library of Famous Literature, _the_ Fortnightly Review, _the_ Daily Mail _and_ London Opinion; _some in the following American Reviews: the_ Century Magazine, _the_ Bookman, _the_ Critic, _the_ Smart Set, Ainslee's Magazine, _the_ Metropolitan Magazine, Harper's Magazine _and_ Harper's Bazar. _The author's thanks are due to the respective proprietors of these publications for their permission to republish in the present volume._

I have lost, within these last few days, a little bull-dog. He had just completed the sixth month of his brief existence. He had no history. His intelligent eyes opened to look out upon the world, to love mankind, then closed again on the cruel secrets of death.

The friend who presented me with him had given him, perhaps by antiphrasis, the startling name of Pelléas. Why rechristen him? For how can a poor dog, loving, devoted, faithful, disgrace the name of a man or an imaginary hero?

Pelléas had a great bulging, powerful forehead, like that of Socrates or Verlaine; and, under a little black nose, blunt as a churlish assent, a pair of large hanging and symmetrical chops, which made his head a sort of massive, obstinate, pensive and three-cornered menace. He was beautiful after the manner of a beautiful, natural monster that has complied strictly with the laws of its species. And what a smile of attentive obligingness, of incorruptible innocence, of affectionate submission, of boundless gratitude and total self-abandonment lit up, at the least caress, that adorable mask of ugliness! Whence exactly did that smile emanate? From the ingenuous and melting eyes? From the ears pricked up to catch the words of man? From the forehead that unwrinkled to appreciate and love, or from the stump of a tail that wriggled at the other end to testify to the intimate and impassioned joy that filled his small being, happy once more to encounter the hand or the glance of the god to whom he surrendered himself?